Page 25 of Rise of the Melody
“Shut up!” she yelled. I’d never heard my aunt tell anyone to shut up. My eyes widened as she went on. “If Finella sang there must have been a damned good reason for it!”
“Okay.” Ron stood now, too, holding up his palms in a sign for peace. But my heart was racing. Stevens truly believed my mom sang that night. But why would she? And how would her singing have led to the entire boat full of people going missing? It didn’t make any sense. The room was filled with magical tension as Aunt Lorna and Stevens glared at one another.
Ron looked at Stevens. “You may wanna back off.” After a long pause, the gruff man finally did, leaving the room in a huff.
Nobody said anything else. When Aunt Lorna sat again, she became lost in her own head, her brow furrowing before she rubbed her temples. I turned back to the mantle. The only other picture was of Teague in a standard school photo, probably last fall. I took one last look at the family portrait, wondering what a little kid was doing out there that day, anyway. I went back to my seat, feeling a moment of pity for the mayor and his loss. I could see how it would turn a person bitter.
Bryant came in, moving quickly in his crisp, gray suit, giving off big a-hole energy like he had better things to be doing. Stevens slid in behind him. The mayor stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the CùSìth. Before he could say anything, Ron spoke up.
“Sir, we left that dog at the house, but it ran here and busted in all on its own.”
The mayor let out a long huff as he stared at CooShee, having some sort of internal battle. Finally, he sat in a velvet armchair and steepled his hands, looking right at me. I wanted to puke. Especially when Stevens sidled up beside his chair and crossed his arms like a druid thug.
The mayor began. “We’ve narrowed down the kelpie’s location to three possible bodies of water: Loch Lomond, Friar Pond, and Misty Lake. The entire national park has been closed to tourists for the last month, so we’re losing revenue and need to get this taken care of. I can’t have this sort of bad press. It’s a nuisance.”
A nuisance? More like a tragedy. He went on.
“As soon as we can pinpoint where it’s living, the plan is to drop you at the location, where you will entrance it with your song. Nobody else can be nearby. We’re having an iron cage built?—”
“Wait,” I said. “I’m going to be alone?” My skin prickled with apprehension.
“Of course,” he said, as if I were stupid. “Your power is poison to all of us.”
“Not poison,” Aunt Lorna corrected. “There are no lasting effects from a siren song.”
He ignored her. “You will be alone.”
CooShee lifted his lip and let out a quick, low rumble of a growl. The mayor’s eyes swung to the creature, who didn’t move. Slight panic had my shoulders bunching and my knee began to bounce. I set down my tea and forced my leg to be still.
“What if my song doesn’t entrance it?” I asked.
“I don’t have an answer for that,” he admitted without an ounce of care. “It is said that there are some creatures not affected by a siren’s song, but I imagine a kelpie isn’t one of them.”
“Great,” I muttered, fear lancing my stomach.
“Your song will be powerful enough,” Aunt Lorna assured me. “But if anything happens, lock your own damn self in that cage to be safe from it.”
The mayor glared at her, and she glared right back.
“What if it breaks out of the cage?” I asked.
“The iron will tire it,” he explained. “Iron sucks power from pure fae. Those of us who have lived on Earth our whole lives have evolved and developed an immunity.” I nodded and he continued. “You’ll be given a flare gun. Once it’s locked in the cage, you’ll send up a flare immediately and we will come to dispose of it.”
He made it sound so simple. Gods.
“How much longer until you find it?” Aunt Lorna asked. “I imagine you can feel its power when you’re near it?”
“The problem is that the power from the nearby portal is so strong you can feel it throughout the park, so it’s hard to decipher. And it’s also muddled when the creature is underwater, which is most of the time.”
“I didn’t think of that.” My aunt nodded, a look of worry on her face.
“We will exchange numbers today,” the mayor told me. “You are to keep your phone on you, with the ringer on, at all times. Until we find this thing, I suggest you begin to hone your powers. Not the singing. Absolutely no singing. I’m talking about practicing your nix powers. Understood?”
“Yes,” I grumbled.
“Hopefully you can do more magic than your aunt. Healing potions and divination will be useless in this situation.” He looked at my aunt, whose eyes were narrowed like needles. “You can take the cuff off her only at home, and only during the times when she’s practicing her magic.”
Aunt Lorna gave a curt nod. “When will this take place?”
